I stepped out of my AC cab and was hit with a gush of wind that was cooler than my AC draft. Mr. Shivam got a 3.0 from me that day for no fault of his own. My legs planted firmly on the ground, I held on to the cab door to take in the breath-taking sight of your face. No photograph, article, video or movie (Sorry, Salman Bhai) I had ever seen did justice to what my eyes were showing me. Heck, this letter does no justice to what you made me feel. My heart flew out in a flutter and I craned my neck to see who was playing “Pehla Nasha, Pehla Khumar..”. I began crooning the hook line only to realise that the song was playing in my head. “First impression: A goofy idiot. Well done, Rohit.”
I climbed your gigantic steps and surveyed the view behind me. Buildings and greenery adorned your face in equal capacity, the right mix of makeup and natural beauty. The slow and serene pace of my heartbeat turned into vigorous thumping when it dawned upon me. They won’t give your hand in mine so easily! The ones who sat at their desks in closed rooms, the ones who thought they owned you, the ones I had to please. I slicked my hair back once again and bid farewell to the breeze as I entered the Proposal Rooms. “I want to be with you. I will win your hand.”
The tests were easy to crack. I kept repeating SRK’s line – “Kisi cheez ko agar…”, with more romantic fervour than he delivered it for Ms Padukone. They kept me behind shut doors for hours, and my eyes longed to see your face again. As dusk set, I ran to the steps only to come to a sudden halt. I rubbed my eyes when I saw you resplendent in your evening wear. Could anyone be more beautiful?! Soaking in the sight, I made a memory map of you, knowing that I’d have to make do with this cheap copy for the next couple of months. Parting from you felt like an intermission in a movie. “The hero and heroine always end up together at the end. Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost” (Last movie reference, I swear)
Rafi kept me going. I spent the coming days waiting fervently for the results. Did they deem me worthy of having you? Will love win or must I fight again the next year? I knew I would if it came to that. And if in the future motor vehicles stopped plying on the hill road, I’d cut through the mountain to get to the top. I’d put Manjhi to shame. (Sorry, I lied)
But it never came to that. I received the selection letter. A mere formality society dictates to validate relationships. Love had won. And I was on top of the world. Being loved back always feels good. Especially if it’s easy on the pockets with no expensive dates involved.
29th May, 2017. I rushed past the two gates and onto the hilltop with several bags in tow. Mr. Deepak got a 5.0 from me that day for no merit of his own. And ever since I’ve been reunited with you, there’s no looking back. I climb your steps every morning and bow down to the idol beside it. I cycle around the campus to feel alive again. You give me good food, warm water and a cosy place to stay. You offer me a range of sports to keep me occupied and I happily oblige. The sun greets you every morning and night and I feel proud to have been offered a vantage point. *sigh*
Two weeks in and my love for you grows every day. The learning that classrooms try to imbibe, I’ve learnt from your landscape already. The two years we are going to be together will be the highlight of my life. And what you give me, I’ll return it back after I leave, like so many of the alumni have. A mutually beneficial relationship. Symbiosis.
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